The torments are twelve, the powers are ten, commanded of you by who not are men,
The wisdom is great, so hidden it was
That he who is low may not reach above,
That he who is low may not reach above
By senses untrue to that which can hide
Is the operation by which we abide
So twisted and pulled are those who would see
By sight and by sound and division of thee
By sight and by sound and division of thee